


A Million Miles Away

by kathrikat



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, Typical Night Vale Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:39:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathrikat/pseuds/kathrikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil Palmer dissociates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Million Miles Away

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote his dissociation in the way that I usually do.

Cecil stared at the enormous stack of papers that cluttered his rather small desk. His hands reached through the thick pages, trying to find something, anything, that wasn't the same words that littered the radio station.   
  
  
_Dissociate._

  
A normal thing to occur. A not very tolerable thing for enjoyment.

  
He let out a puff, it's shape and shadows visible. Kind of like in a comic book.

  
Around the office, Anxieties had begun to grow there, it had been so long since he had cleaned it. They slithered and writhed. He knew an abundance of them was never good but calling the exterminator exerted too much energy and too much money. The fears were there too. The blades that jutted out of their twisted and their crippled backs was a horrific sight. They crawled and brushed against his legs, scuffing his feet and pants.

  
_"I'm sorry dear listeners, there seem to be an infestation of anxieties and fears in the office. I'm not sure where they came from, nor how to get rid of them. Most would say to call the exterminator, but no one has seem them, since, well, you know. The Incident.™"_

  
He pretended that he was on the air, although that didn't mean that no one was listening. He stared at the stack of paperwork leaning back and slightly rocking in his floating chair. The weather slowly crept in thought the window, ringing through his ears and NVCR station. Tonight, it was rock, the bass setting down the beat, and a lovely voice that melted like honey.

  
Too much work.

  
The eyes that graced his arms blinked and shifted around in all directions. The voices that came from the seeping blackness above him whispered only the unknown.

  
_"Leave. Leave. L E A V E._

  
_D I S A P P E A R."_

  
He wasn't quite sure where the blackness had even come from in the first place, but as of now it was dripping.

  
It dripped onto his skin, the eyes that scattered there blinked their reaction. The tattoos on his back slithered, on the fine line of fiction and reality. But wasn't everything in Night Vale?

  
The blackness oozed, it enveloped him. It curled and cracked and bent. The disgusting liqiud ran up every crevice of him and it was suffocating. Cecil had to admit, he enjoyed the sensation. Not that this was the first time it had ever happened.

  
This always happens after the broad cast.

  
This is what must happen.

  
As he let the oozing substance do it's thing, he found himself slipping away. He was out of the radio station, out of his body. He could see the entirety of Night Vale below him. It felt as though he were in a dream.

  
An all too real dream.

  
He could see Old Woman Josie who lives out by the car lot. He could see the Glow Cloud (ALL HAIL) shimmering its many colors and releasing the corpses of dead animals that hit the sidewalks with audible _splats_. There was of course, The Ralphs, which was about to close, and had several sentient beings huddled close together and chanting out back.  
There was the Night Vale pawnshop. Cecil of course, did not know where the pawnshop was located, but he could see it.He could also see the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. It's neon lights shone brightly against the black, barren, existential backdrop of the desert. Howls could be heard coming from inside. 

 

The lights above the Arby's glittered out an image. To Cecil, it looked like the entire destiny of Night Vale was etched there. But also, if he turned his head a little to the right, it looked like a turtle, so who knows what is was or what it meant, really?  
Cecil saw many things, but perhaps the most important was the Night Vale Community Radio Station. He could see himself in third person, completely covered. He could see himself sitting, waiting, anticipating his return. He was gone as of now, and with how good it felt, he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be back for quite some time.


End file.
